If I’ve learned anything at all being a mom of a very active thirsty toddler, it is that I seem to always be running to the store to buy more milk. Which sucks. Especially if said child is going through a phase where he revolts at even the sight of a grocery cart in his peripheral vision. Or if it’s 100 degrees, and we need to walk to Walgreen’s to buy a quart to tide us over, and then I manage to leave the bag at the checkout counter. And I only realize this when we get home. But what really stinks is that I just feel like I am always going back to the store for just milk. Nothing else. Just. Whole. Freaking. Milk. I need to buy an Us Weekly while I’m there just to lessen the sting.
I don’t recall my mom ever saying “Jesus! We’re out of milk, AGAIN?” You see, back in the day, my family always had milk delivered. Welch Farms in Jersey, Holla! A family with 7 kids requires 2-3 gallons of milk per week. So they delivered it. Right to our little milk box by our front door. Life was just better in the 80′s. Am I right?
Anyway, fast forward to last Wednesday. Colin and I were in the yard one day and this old timey truck rolled by. Colin loves a truck. I love a well designed old timey truck with style. “Thatcher’s Dairy Farm”. Um, that is a milk truck. A MILK TRUCK! Naturally, I pulled my mom card, asked Colin if he wanted a treat inside, and quickly got online to look into this mysterious Thatcher Farms.
I filled out a little information email, hit send, and not even 12 hours later was contacted to start delivery.
And let me tell you. It has changed my life. My pathetic and horribly boring life. But I don’t need your pity. Cuz I’ve got milk delivery. They also deliver other dairy, bread and if I’m feeling particularly crazy, PIES.
Colin gets a gallon and a half of whole milk and I get a half gallon of 1%, and every Friday it happens all over again. They bill monthly and I leave payment in the box for the delivery man. Same goes for if I want pie. I just slip a note in the box saying, “BRING ME PIE!” and they will. As if we live in 1950 Pleasantville.
But most importantly, I never have to step foot in a store for the sole purpose of overpaying for milk that’s been shipped from God Knows Where and expired TODAY ever again (I’m looking at you, Walgreens).
The cute glass bottles don’t hurt either.
Do you get milk delivered? Did you even know it was still possible?